


5 Births, 5 Lifetimes (And One That Had Two)

by bukkunmoonsin (bukkunkun)



Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Cats, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Angst and Humor, Birthday Fluff, Blood and Violence, Cat Cafés, Dark Magic, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid EJ Comment If You Agree, Heavy Angst, M/M, This Fic Is Bilingual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:31:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunmoonsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 Birthdays, 5 Lifetimes of our one and only Emilio Jacinto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rose AU

**Author's Note:**

> (part 1) [Tumblr post here.](http://bukkun-moonsin.tumblr.com/post/135243142833/5-births-5-lifetimes-and-one-that-had-two-15)
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY EJ ANAK KOOOOOOOOOO GRABE
> 
> sorry sa mga nag-abang ng fic kahapon, may emergency ako sa bahay so hindi ko nagawang i-post yung day 3 na fic. SO NGAYON KO SYA IPOPOST. KASABAY NITO, FOR DAY 4!!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY EJ!!!!

In the middle of a war, there was no time for rest. No time for pleasure, or the small things that made time worth passing by.

Not when there were too many lives being lost out there. Not when there were too many families losing everything and everyone they had.

Jacinto has been through too much of that, and joining the Revolution was only going to add more pain in his life.

Well. If that was the price of freedom, then what was another lifetime of pain, if the nation would be free?

The young man sat alone in the room, staring at his rose in the dim light of the lamp next to him. It used to be white, he remembered. When he had joined the Katipunan, he’d been ridiculed for it. Called a child, for having such a juvenile colour on his wrist, but now…

It was turning into the softest shade of peach.

He absently thumbed the petals of his rose, and chuckled softly. He couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting that colour, half-hoping it would turn into anything but blue, but peach roses weren’t that bad. They weren’t stigmatised. They weren’t that as easily dismissed as yellow rose hosts. If anything, he reasoned, well. He was relatively closer to red than most cool-colour roses.

“Jacinto.” Bonifacio’s voice was warm as he called his name, and he turned to see the man smiling at him fondly from where he stood at the doorway, holding two mugs of _cerveza_. “Why are you still here? It’s late—you should head home to get some rest.”

Jacinto shrugged. “I’ve nowhere to go tonight.” He replied, “Home is… closed for tonight.”

The curfew.

“Oh, that’s right.” Bonifacio smiled, but it looked like he knew it all along. Jacinto allowed himself a small laugh at Bonifacio’s transparency. He sat down, and allowed the younger man to lean against him as he handed Jacinto a mug of _cerveza_. “Here, a drink.” He said softly, and in the darkness of the room and the dimness of the lamplight, Jacinto realised that Bonifacio’s rose had never looked so dark red.

“ _Supremo_ ,” he said quietly, and Bonifacio hummed in acknowledgement. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Changing rose colour.”

Bonifacio eyed the growing peach on Jacinto’s wrist, and he smiled. “Well.” He allowed Jacinto to snuggle close to him, and he noted the young man hadn’t even touched his drink. “Do you want the truth, or a softer truth?”

“I’m not a child.”

“I wish you were.”

Silence fell over them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was gentle, calm and content, like an embrace of soft cloth on a cold day.

“… Sometimes I wish the same, _Supremo_.”

Bonifacio smiled at that softly, and dared press a kiss to Jacinto’s hair.

“It’s not a shame for you to be one sometimes.” He murmured, “You’re still so young. You still have so much more to see in the world.”

Jacinto frowned at that slightly, and looked down at his _cerveza_.

“All I see is the war, _Supremo_.” He quietly replied.

“There will be the calm after the storm.” Bonifacio simply said, and patted Jacinto’s arm as he took a swig of his drink. “But. The whole truth.”

“Hm.”

“It hurts. Like the lick of flames against your skin. Like the stab of knives into your gut.” He said, gently cupping Jacinto’s rose in his hands, like it was his most precious treasure—

And, if you asked him, it was. It truly, truly was.

“It feels like a baptism by blood. Like death, over and over again.”

Jacinto peered at him, expression carefully blank, but his eyes were filling up with water. He was probably thinking about how much Bonifacio suffered through Rizal’s loss, and the swell in Bonifacio’s chest was one of bittersweet affection.

“But, like any sacrifice, it is not without reward.”

Jacinto looked down at his rose, and frowned.

“Do all colour changes happen that way?” he asked.

Bonifacio eyed his rose, and hummed. “Perhaps not.” He replied, and the younger man cocked his head at him.

“How so?”

“Well.” He smiled, and carefully avoided the thorns on Jacinto’s wrist to reach for his petals. He gave the younger man a meaningful look, a silent ask for his consent, and he only silently nodded. Bonifacio kissed his temple, and fluffed up Jacinto’s baby peach petals. “Sometimes, when things change for the better—”

(Was, he suddenly wondered, changing to a deep red that terrible?)

“—Then, the colour changes as well, and it blossoms. Like blood seeping through water. And it will feel like the sweetest feeling in the world. Like the touch of the wind in the afternoon. Like love, long lost and found again.”

He threaded their fingers together, and their roses brushed against each other, warmly, like family meeting each other again after so long. Next to Bonifacio’s large deep red rose, Jacinto only felt years younger, and he sighed.

“… I don’t know which I am scared of more.”

“Then, perhaps you’re still a child.” Bonifacio chuckled, and Jacinto huffed, displeased.

“Then why give me _cerveza_ , _Supremo_?” he pouted.

“Well, you’re not _that_ young, Jacinto.” Bonifacio laughed, and peered at the clock on the wall. “And—it’s midnight.”

Jacinto turned to look, and he hummed.

“So it is.” He replied, and was surprised when Bonifacio pulled him into a hug. “… _Supremo_?”

“Happy birthday, my boy.” He murmured. “May you live long, and see all you can ever see.”

Jacinto froze for a moment, before melting into his embrace, smiling softly.

“Thank you, _Supremo_.”

Starting that day, he realized he had two colours—peach, and _yellow_.

That put a smile on his face.

There was no need for fear in colour turning.

Not when he knew what love felt like now.


	2. The Mapalad AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Mapalad AU.
> 
> Anon!prompt: Write something for one of your AUs with EJ. I freaking thirst for him (talagang sobra na) and seeing a kitty EJ, or a telepath EJ, or something. Wreck us. Go on, do it.

It’d been sweet, what Jacinto and Oryang had done for him on his birthday. It was simple, and yet—it warmed his heart the most out of all the greetings and presents he got from his compatriots and co-members in the Katipunan.

Now that it was Jacinto’s turn to celebrate his birthday, he was… well. Stuck.

Pacing by himself inside his office, the molekinetic was in quite the predicament. He was… well, for the lack of a better term, in a panic.

What was he supposed to do for Jacinto? What was _perfect_ for the young man he considered his own son? He was no telepath; he couldn’t just _look_ in there, even if he was welcome in Jacinto’s fortress of a mind.

He didn’t know who else to turn to. Jacinto was a very kept young man. Quiet. Had little friends, and was only really truly close to him and Oryang.

“ _Putangina_ ,” he swore, shaking his head in disbelief, lightly smacking his forehead against the wall, trying to think as hard as he could. At the rate he was going he actually might make something explode.

And something did.

“ _ANDOY!_ ” Procopio’s curse sounded from outside, followed by Sacay and Oryang’s wild raucous laughter. Bonifacio couldn’t help the snickering snort that escaped his lips as he hurried to the window to see his brother’s charred clothes, soot covering his face atop the fiercest frown he’d seen on his face. His arms were crossed and he was glaring Bonifacio down, tapping his foot impatiently as he stood beside what Bonifacio made explode—the remains of what had been his prized cockerel’s little _nipa_ house.

The cockerel in question was unharmed, sitting still in Sacay’s arms despite the man’s raucous laughter. Oryang was bent over a barrel, still laughing like Sacay was, and, sitting on a pile of wooden crates was Jacinto, hiding his snickers behind a book he was reading.

Bonifacio laughed brightly, dodging the bucket of water Procopio threw at him, and accepting the kiss Oryang pressed to his cheek, still giggling at the whole thing. His gaze met with Jacinto’s, and the young man lowered his book to smile at him.

 _He’s never going to let you live this down_. He heard Jacinto’s voice in his head, and Bonifacio shrugged one shoulder.

_Oh, what’s another sibling bicker?_

At that Jacinto laughed brightly, giggling like the child he never got to be, and Bonifacio’s heart swelled in affection.

An idea took root in his head.

What if he did something to bring that smile back to his face?

He wasted no time in getting out of the hut. He had an old friend he needed to see.

* * *

 

“You want me to _what_ , exactly?” Mabini’s voice was flat, unimpressed, as Bonifacio shifted his weight from one leg to another nervously.

“Just as I said.”

Mabini _looked_ at him, sceptical. “You want me to look into Jacinto’s head to tell you what his fondest memory is.”

“Yes.”

“For his _birthday_.”

“I think I’ve made that clear.”

Mabini remained disinterested, nonplussed.

“Senyor Bonifacio—”

“Ginoo, please.”

Mabini raised an eyebrow at him.

“… Ginoo.” Mabini amended slowly. “Need I remind you that I use my ability _for emergencies_?”

“Well, this is a bit of an emergency.” Bonifacio ventured.

“Hardly.” Mabini deadpanned. “And, second of all, Bonifacio.”

The man prepared himself for the worst, all the more so when Mabini’s lips curled into a slow smile.

Oh, boy. Here it comes.

“What you’re trying to do is what I would call _cheating_.” Mabini finished, and Bonifacio let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, but then did a double-take.

“Cheating?” he asked.

“Well, yes.” Mabini picked up his glass of water and took a calm sip. “Jacinto always leaves a trail of ice when he goes into people’s heads. It goes away after a while, but there’s still some traces of it long after he visits. You don’t have such recent signs in your head.”

Bonifacio blinked at him.

“You looked.”

“Yes.” Mabini sipped his water again.

“I hadn’t realised—”

“There are vital differences between Jacinto and I. One, is age,” Mabini held his index finger up, “And two, control over our telepathy. I happen to have the advantage for both.”

Bonifacio flushed slightly, and Mabini chuckled.

“But, for an old friend, I’ll let you know something, for your sake.” He continued. “Jacinto’s dearest memories are all linked to _you_.”

At that, Bonifacio paused, and looked at Mabini.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Now go, hurry and have something done. His birthday is tomorrow.”

Bonifacio nodded, and headed to the door, but was stopped at a prod Mabini did to his head.

“And, oh, Andres—” the man turned to look at the paralytic, and he was truly smiling, a rarity in the man all in itself, and Bonifacio couldn’t help but stare in disbelief. “Send my greetings to the boy as well.”

“… I will.” Bonifacio nodded blankly, and Mabini left him at that.

* * *

 

Left alone once again to his thoughts, Bonifacio bought back to what Mabini had told him. 

 _“Jacinto's dearest memories are all linked to you_.”

Well, that wasn't very helpful, he thought to himself, but with very little to go on with, Bonifacio settled with building on that. 

Hm. If all his dearest memories had something to do with him, it would make sense that, all things considered, anything Bonifacio would give him could qualify as something precious. 

“Ugh, that's not it.” He complained, grumbling as he paced the room again, mumbling this and that to himself like a disgruntled old man.

Which, considering his circumstances,  _would_ have him qualify as such. 

He groaned, and sat heavily down on his chair. This was unfair. Jacinto managed to make something perfect for him without looking into his head, while Bonifacio, practically twice as old as him and with the (albeit cryptic) aid of a telepath, couldn't come up with a solution. 

Oryang peered into his office, and chuckled. 

“Something bothering you,  _mahal_?” She asked sweetly, much to Bonifacio's relief, and the man sighed in relief as she stepped in. He gave her a kiss, before taking hold of her hands. 

“It's Jacinto.” He murmured, and at that, Oryang raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What's wrong with him?”

“No, it's not him, it's me.” Bonifacio shook his head. “I... don't know what I should do for his birthday.” 

“Oh, Andoy.” She smiled fondly, and cupped his cheek. 

“I've even asked Mabini to look in his head, and he's still cryptic as ever.”

At that Oryang's smile faded a little, and she scoffed. “I'm not surprised at all.” She grumbled, not bothering to hide her dislike for him and Bonifacio laughed fondly, kissing her hair. 

“Oh, that's just how he is,  _mahal_.” He told her, but Oryang still made a face. He chuckled, and pulled her into a hug. “But on to other things. Mainly, what I should do for Jacinto's birthday.”

“Hmm.” Oryang smiled. 

“I mean, he'd managed to come up with something for me without looking, while there's me, someone who's already talked to another telepath—”

“Andoy,  _mahal_ , Emilio asked me for help.” Oryang giggled, intensifying into a full laugh when Bonifacio looked at her incredulously. “He said the sweetest thing--he wanted a gift from the bottom of his heart, not the bottom of your mind.”

Oh. Dear  _God_ , Jacinto was such a sweet boy. 

“That's--” Bonifacio hesitated, and he smiled, “That's the most precious thing ever.”

“Isn't it.” Oryang smiled. “I'll tell you what,” she pressed a bolo (where on  _earth_  did she get that) into his hands, and patted it. “Why don't you just spend time with him?”

Bonifacio blinked at her, and she shrugged. 

“Emilio loves you very much, Andoy. I think just spending time with him is enough.”

Bonifacio slowly nodded in dazed agreement. 

* * *

 

And by God, she was right.

Oryang was  _always_  right. 

“Jacinto.” Bonifacio cleared his throat on the morn of December 15, and the young man blinked at him, confused. 

“ _Supremo?”_ He asked. 

“Put your books down for today.” He declared. “You mentioned you weren't good with a  _bolo_ , right?” He tried to sound casual, but he couldn't stop his anxiety from projecting in their heads. “Let's get you trained for today.”

Jacinto knew he was nervous. There was no hiding it. 

And yet, that same child-like smile crossed his face, and Bonifacio realised he'd made the right choice in presents.

“I'd love to,  _Supremo_.” He warmly replied. “Thank you.”

There was more to his words than simple gratitude for the training. It had a warm, sweet echo in the back of their minds.

_Thank you for the love. Thank you for everything._

Bonifacio's answering smile was as warm, and it only widened when Jacinto slotted himself into his arms in a tight hug. 

 _You're welcome_ , he thought, and it meant more than what he didn't say. 

_I love you, my son._


	3. The Heneral Tuna AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cat Cafe AU Everyone Considers the Saving Grace of the Angsty-ass Fandom

Jerrold’s assistant both hated and loved their job. It was a kind of 50-50 thing. They were dealing with ghost cats (Jerrold named them Sacay, and Alejandrino, among others), too-fat cats (“Paco, please for the love of _god_ get off my legs I need to feel them!”), scary cats (Andoy’s signature _glare_ was really something else), and of course, to top it all off—

Not that they had anything against kittens. They were cute enough, sweet and tiny and their meows never get annoying or tiring, but dear _god_. The kittens. In Jerrold’s café.

Joven was such a difficult little thing to take care of. Not because he was hard to take of as in he refused any help, no.

It was _finding him, at all_ , that was the problem. Joven got lost so easily anywhere, and _everywhere_ (“Sir Jerrold, Joven is in your tumbler.” “Hm, so he is.” “DEAR GOD SIR TAKE HIM OUT OF THERE.” “In a minute. This is going on IG.”), and it took too much energy on them just to find the little white kitten. It didn’t help that Tunying and Paco liked egging them on in agitation to find him. When it was said that they liked throwing their weight around, they _loved_ throwing their weight around.

Jerrold’s assistant has sustained at least two bruises from Tunying’s tossing alone.

And then… there was EJ.

It’s been said that cats hate water, but this little kitten…

It had begun to rain that cold December 15 (EJ’s birthday, according to Jerrold, written on a Post-It note to his assistant in unnaturally messy script. He was in a hurry to his movie’s showing), when the kitten did as he usually did when it rained.

Jump up to the windowsill (much to the fright of his parents, and _ow_ , goes the assistant’s ankle at Andoy’s reflex scratch at them) and meow. Loudly. For _hours_.

The assistant groaned, and picked the kitten up from where he was at the windowsill, before dumping him in the pile his parents made on their pillows. Oryang started grooming him to calm him down, but nope. There he went, dodging out from under his parents, and went right back to the windowsill.

They sighed, exasperated, and when Manuel joined EJ on the windowsill (and soon, José, and then Rusca, and _this was getting ridiculous_ ) they simply _gave up_.

“Okay, out, out,” they grumbled, and opened the glass sliding door outside into the small yard. EJ looked up at them, eyes wide, and they sighed, smiling at him exasperatedly. “Just this once,” they told him, despite knowing he couldn’t understand a word, but EJ meowed happily anyway, and hurried outside, Manuel (and then José, and then Rusca, Goyong, Miong (but probably not without making sure Pole was warm first), and then others and _dear god this was their life now_ ) followed suit. 

They watched the cats play outside in the rain, and sighed.

Clean-up was going to be a bitch, probably.

Grumbling, they sat down, and Pole approached them, his wheelchair rattling softly as he tried climbing up onto their lap. They helped him on, removing his wheelchair so he was comfortable, and sighed as Pole cuddled close to their warmth.

“It’s EJ’s birthday today, anyway.” They muttered, and just on time, their phone rang. They picked it up to see it was Jerrold calling. “Sir?” they asked when they answered.

“ _If my kids and grandchildren get sick, this is coming off your paycheck._ ”

 _Fuck_.

“Right. Okay. I’ll get to it.” They hurriedly hung up, and ran outside into the rain to start picking the cats up, one by one, scrubbing them down hurriedly before plopping them into their beds before rushing back outside to get the rest.

Out of whatever strange circumstance, they left EJ last, patting him down with a fluffy towel as they closed the door behind them with their foot. Sighing deeply, they sat down when EJ was finished, and half-expected the kitten to run off to his parents—

When he climbed up their arm (ow, ow, _ow, **claws, please**_ ) and perched on their shoulder.

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?” they asked tiredly, and EJ blinked at them for a moment, before purring, and rubbing his side against their cheek. That small action made a smile spread across their face, as they cupped him in their hands. He was so small like that, in the bowl they made, and he meowed, soft and sweet, and licked their thumb.

The bristles on his tongue hurt.

Still, it put a smile on their face, and they pressed a kiss to his little head.

“You’re welcome, baby.” They murmured, “Happy birthday.”

They may have such a hectic life, but they couldn’t say they didn’t enjoy what they had now.

That was good enough.


	4. The Kalyeserye AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kalyeserye AU. NOW IN FILIPINO.
> 
> Anon prompts: EJ and Jovea in matching outfits, surprise birthday for bb ej

Hindi na masyadong teenager si EJ (kaka-23 lang niya ngayon), ngunit kung sa unang tingin sa mukha niya, hindi mo aakalaing mas matanda siya sa 20 sa bata ng itsura at pananamit niya.

Ngayon, terno sila ni Jovea sa outfits. Pastel pink and blue, cat thigh-highs (yun kaniya, itim, yung kay Jovea, puti) at ternong kulay ng ribbon sa buhok. Si Jovea, naka-pastel blue na blusa na may pink na ribbon sa leeg. Si EJ, pareho rin—ngunit sa halip na ribbon, ay bowtie. Pareho pa silang naka-suspenders (pastel pink ulit, with glitters), at si Jovea naka-skater skirt na pink. Si EJ, shorts naman na pink rin.

(Nag-selfie silang magkasama kanina. 75 likes and counting sa IG, as of thirty minutes ago.)

Ngayon, magkasama silang naglalakad sa campus, magkaakbay, at ngumunguya pa ng chewing gum si EJ habang si Jovea naglalagay ng lip gloss.

“Salamat talaga para sa outfit ngayon.” Wika niyang nakangiti nang biglaan, at napangiti si Jovea.

“Walang anuman, Kuya EJ.” Sagot ng dalaga, “Alam ko namang mahilig ka sa mga gawa kong outfit, saka for once naman, terno tayo.”

Humagikgik si EJ. “Oo nga.” Tango niya, at nakita niya si Gregorio sa malayo, nakatulala sa kanilang malaki ang mata at parang hindi makapani-paniwala sa istura nila. “O, boyfriend mo. Tulala nanaman.”

Natawa si Jovea. “Hindi ko pa siya boyfriend, Kuya EJ, grabe.” Sagot niya at nilapitan nila si Gregorio. “Hi, Goyong.”

“... Jovea.” Sagot lamang ng binata, at natawa si EJ.

“Hoy, gising na. Tanghali pa lang, ganyan ka na.” Wika niya, “Grabe, kung hindi lang kita kababata, sisingilin na kita sa kakatitig mo eh.”

Namula si Gregorio, at iniling niya ang ulo niya sa hiya.

“Ang ganda lang kasi ni Jovea, OK.”

“Si Kuya EJ rin kaya.” Sagot ni Jovea. “Cutest lawyer—”

“—And cutest journalist!” Tuloy ni EJ, at nag-peace sign silang dalawa sa binata. Natawa si Gregorio sa kanilang dalawa at iniling niya ang ulo niya.

“Kuya EJ.” Wika niya, at inakyat niya ang hawak niyang nakabalot na regalo. “Happy birthday. Kaso nahiya ako bigla sa regalo ko, kung ‘yang lahat binigay ni Jovea sa iyo.”

“Yung shorts at socks lang naman, ikaw talaga.” Tawa ni EJ, at kinuha niya ang regalo. “Salamat, Goyong.”

“Buksan mo,” Ngiti ni Jovea, at natawa si EJ.

“Sabi ko na nga ba, ikaw may kinalaman ka rito eh.” Iniling niya ang ulo niya, at pagkabukas ng regalo, ay lumaki ang ngiti niya. “Cat ears. Cute niyo.”

“Sabi mo kasi noon gusto mo ng cat ears eh.” Sagot ni Jovea, “Kaya sinabihan ko si Goyong na ‘yun na lang kunin niya para sa iyo.”

Sinuot agad ni EJ ang accessories, at natuwa si Jovea.

“Teka, teka. Pic.” Wika niyang gigil na gigil, at nilabas ni EJ ang phone niya, nakangiti kay Gregorio.

“Goyong, sama ka. Ikaw may pakana nito.” Tawa niya, at sumama ang binata sa selfie nilang tatlo, nakaturo sina Jovea at Gregorio sa bagong ayos ni EJ. Natutuwa, inupload niya agad sa IG, habang nagngitian sina Jovea at Goyong. Tinignan sila ni EJ, nakataas ang kilay, at namaywang siya. “Teka. Ba’t parang may pinaplano kayo?”

“Wala masyado.” Sagot ng dalawang nakangiti, at lalong naghinala si EJ.

“Guys...” wika niyang mabagal, at ang unang bumigay ay si Joveang natatawa.

“Nagkita na ba kayo ni Kuya Manuel?” tanong niya, at doon, namula si EJ.

“H-hindi pa.” Sagot niya, at doon, lumaki ang mga ngiti ng dalawa. “Guys, _ano ba_.”

“Ang cute mo talaga, Kuya EJ,” hagikgik ni Jovea, “O ano, may balak ka bang magpakita sa kaniya?”

“O-oo naman,” sagot ni EJ, unti-unting nababawasan ng pagtitiwala sa sarili.

“Huy, si crush.” Biglang may nagsalita sa likod ni EJ, at halos sumigaw siya sa pagkabigla. Lumingon siya, at nakita niya pareho sina Jose at si Rusca, malalaki ang ngiti, at may hawak na isang maliit na puting karton na walang pambalot, at may malaking pulang ribbon. “Hi, Kuya EJ,” hagikgik ni Jose, at pati si Rusca, tawa na nang tawa.

“Happy birthday!” bati nilang dalawa ng sabay.

“Mga gago kayo,” Tawa ni EJ nang kinakabahan, at kinuha niya ang karton. “Kinabahan ako sa—” napatigil siya sa pagtingin niya sa loob, at lalong namula ang mukha niya sa hiya. “Mga gago!” Sigaw niya.

“Para hindi niyo ako i-sexile ngayong gabi.” Wika ni Jose, at nakakuha siya ng sapak sa braso mula kay Rusca, pulang-pula sa katatawa. Namula lalo si EJ, at nanipa siya kay Jose.

“Ang bulgar mo, nakakainis.”

“Pagpaumanhin mo na lang si Jose, EJ. Alam mo namang gago siya.”

At doon, napatigil siya sa pagkabigla. Lumingon siya ulit, at nakita niya si Manuel, at _shet_ —

Naka-suit siya, bukas pa ang mga unang butones at bahagyang maluwag ang kurbata. May hawak pa siyang bouquet.

 _Diyosmio_.

“K-Kuya Manuel.”

Ngiitian siya ni Manuel, at hindi siya makaglaw habang nilapitan siya ng nakatatanda.

“Hi.” Wika niyang malumanay, at nanginginig pang tinanggap ni EJ ang bouquet na hawak ni Manuel “Cute mo ngayon ah.”

Lalong nag-atubili si EJ, at lumalim ang kaniyang pagkapula.

“S-salamat, Kuya.”

“Happy birthday nga pala.”

“Ha-happy birthday din.”

Doon, tinaasan siya ng kilay ni Manuel, nakangiti pa rin, at napagtanto ni EJ kung ano nasabi niya.

“Ay—teka, hindi, th-thank you dapat—”

Nilapitan siya bigla at hinalikan siya sa pisngi. Doon, parang nangyelo si EJ, at natawa si Manuel sa kaniya.

“Alam kong nag-umpisa ang relasyon natin sa... hindi kaaya-ayang mga pagkakataon, pero,” hinawakan ni Manuel ang pisngi ni EJ, at nginitian niya ang nakababata. “Ngayon, gusto kong ayusin natin. Date muna. Bago... yung balak ni Jose.”

“Gago ka, Kuya!” sigaw ni Jose mula sa likod, ngunit hindi alintana ito kay EJ, na ngayon ay parang lutang sa mga ulap sa tuwa.

“Pwede ba?” tanong niya ng mahina. “Hindi ka ba magi-guilty?”

“Siguro hindi na.” Sagot ni Manuel. “23 ka na, diba?”

Doon, natawa si EJ, at mahina niyang sinapak ang braso ni Manuel. “’Wag kang maingay sa edad ko, may niloloko akong madlang masa.”

“Noted.” Tawa ni Manuel, at hinawakan niya ang mga kamay ni EJ. “O ano na?” Tanong niya. “Tayo na ba?”

“’Di ba noon pa man?” Tawag ulit ni Jose, at nakatikim siya ng sapak mula kay Rusca.

“Salamat, Rusca,” Wika ni Manuel nang hindi nakatingin sa kanila, nakatitig pa rin kay EJ, at lumaki ang ngiti niya sa kaniya. “O, EJ. Sasagutin mo ba ako?”

“Syempre,” wika ni EJ nang mahina, at kay laki ng ngiti niya. “Laging-lagi, Kuya.”

“Manuel na lang.” Sagot ni Manuel, at inakbayan niya si EJ. “Para... close.”

“Edi sige... Manuel.”

“ _Yiiiih,_ kinilig siya.”

“Putangina mo rin, Jose.”


	5. The Supernatural AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Supernatural AU. 
> 
> Anon prompt: Andoy and Oryang throwing EJ a kiddie birthday party

Mahilig sa sorpresa si EJ noong bata siya. Mahilig ding sorpresahin siya ng kaniyang mga magulang, sa kung anu-anong dahilan.

_“EJ, punta tayo ng EK! Nagka-bonus si Daddy mo!”_

_“EJ, spaghetti tayo ngayong gabi. May craving si Mommy.”_

_“EJ! Tignan mo nagawa ni Mommy!”_

May isang beses, nakapag-ipon ang tatay niyang si Andres para sa isang kids party noong 7 years old siya. Kasama ang mga kaibigan nila sa gubat na tahanan ni Gregoria, nakapagpakain si Andres ng Jollibee upang ipagdiwang ang kapanganakan ng nag-iisang nabubuhay na kalahating-dugo na diwata.

Ang saya niya noong araw na iyon. Hinding-hindi mawawala sa kaniyang isipan ang tuwa ng kaniyang puso sa dami ng mga kaibigang kasama sa party niya, at sa unang pagkakataon sa maikling buhay niya, naramdaman ni EJ na talagang... normal siya. Isang normal na bata, na may mga kaibigan, na may mga magulang nagmamahal sa kaniya, at hindi... engkantong lagi na lang nagtatago mula sa mga hunter na pumapatay sa mga katulad niya.

 _Halimaw_.

Ngayong 13 na si EJ, sa araw ng kaniyang kapanganakan, nag-ipon muli si Andres para maka-party ang anak niya.

“Pasensya na kung hindi siya magara,” lagi niyang wika habang naghahanda ng kanilang tahanan, isang kubo sa gubat ni Gregoria. “Hindi talaga uubra yung kinita ko kamakailan. Ni hindi pa nga dumarating yung 13th month ko eh.”

“OK lang, Daddy,” diin ni EJ, habang hawak ang braso ng ama niya. “Basta meron. Masaya ako.”

Ngiti lang ang sagot ni Andres sa kaniya, at halik sa noo.

“Mabuti naman.”

Hinawakan niya si EJ sa ulo niya, at ginulo niya ang buhok niya.

“Mahal kita, anak.” Wika niyang parang may bigat ang loob, at dahil bata si EJ, hindi niya naintindihan kung bakit. Tinitigan niya lang ang ama niya, at lumuhod si Andres upang hawakan ang mga pisngi ni EJ. “Mahal na mahal kita, anak.” Wika niyang mahina, at nagtaka ang bata.

“Daddy, bakit, anong meron?”

“Mahal mo ba si Daddy, EJ?”

Doon, napatigil ang bata, ngunit tumango rin siya.

“Opo, Daddy!” sagot niya. “Mahal na mahal kita!”

“Mabuti naman.” Nagbuntung-hininga si Andres, at niyakap niya ng mahigpit si EJ. “Mabuti naman.”

Hindi alam ni EJ na iyon na yung huling beses na mayayakap niya ang ama niya.

Kalagitnaan ng party nila, biglang may umalingawngaw ng pagsabog ng mahika, at nabigla ang lahat ng engkantong naroon.

“Mangkukulam!” may sumigaw na aswang, “Takbo!”

Nagkalat ang lahat ng dumalo sa salu-salo, at nabigla si EJ sa biglang paghablot sa kaniya ng kaniyang ina, at tumakbo sila palayo.

“Mommy?” tanong niyang takot na takot, at naramdaman niya ang mga luhang tumutulo sa kaniya mula sa mga mata ng nanay niya. “Mommy, bakit? Anong nangyayari?”

“Takbo lang tayo, EJ,” wika ni Gregoria, at nanginginig ang boses niya. “Huwag kang lumingon sa likod mo.”

Ngunit hindi makatiis ang bata.

Iyon ang unang pagkakataong nakakita siya ng mangkukulam.

Hindi sila malalaki, or nakadamit ng itim ng katulad sa TV na nakikita ni EJ. Hindi sila mga babaeng gulu-gulo ang buhok, at hindi sila may malalaking ilong.

Sila’y katulad ng pangkaraniwang tao, at doon lalo silang katakut-takot.

At hinding-hindi niya makakalimutan ang nakita niya.

May isang lalaki na nakatayo sa harap ng tatay niya, nakaluhod sa lupa, duguan at tadtad ng sugat sa katawan niya. Nanlaki ang mga mata ni EJ, at—

“Daddy!”

Sinaksak bigla ng lalaki ang tatay niya sa tiyan.

Parang nabasag ang mundo ni EJ sa tunog ng sigaw ng tatay niya, at hindi na siya nakapag-isip pa. Ginamit niya ang kaniyang kapangyarihan.

Tila bumagal ang oras, at pumuslit siya mula sa yakap ng ina niya upang takbuhan ang tatay niya.

“Daddy, ‘wag!”

Napuno ng luha ang kaniyang mga mata, at bumagsak siya sa lupang punung-puno ng dugo upang yakapin ang naghihingalong katawan ng tatay niya.

“Daddy!”

“Hindi ba’t sinabi ng diwatang nanay mo na magtanan na kayo?” tanong ng mangkukulam sa likod niya, ngunit hindi siya tinignan ni EJ.

“Ba’t mo ginawa ito daddy ko?” tanong niyang humahagulgol, nakakapit ng mahigpit sa katawan ni Andres, hindi alintana ang dugo at mahinang pasabi sa kaniya ng tatay niya na tumakbo. “Anong ginawa niya sa iyo?”

“Hindi mo mauunawaan iyon, bata.” Sagot ng mangkukulam. “Iba ang pamamalakad ng mga mangkukulam sa mga engkantong katulad mo.”

“E bakit?” Sigaw ni EJ, “Bakit ba kasi?!”

Hindi niya nakita ang ngiti ng mangkukulam.

“Ito’y bunga ng kasakiman, bata.”

Biglang may matalas na sakit sa dibdib ni EJ, at napagtanto niya—

May mahabang espada na lumalabas mula sa dibdib niya.

“EJ,” humingal si Andoy, “E-EJ, anak—”

“Daddy.” Tumulo ang luha, kulay pilak, mula sa kaniyang mga mata. “ _Daddy._ ”

“ _Putangina_ , Aguinaldo!” Nabuhayan ng loob si Andres, at niyakap niya ang anak niya sa pighati. “Isinusumpa kita! _Isinusumpa kita, at ang buong angkan mo_!”

“Ako dapat ang nagpapatong ng sumpa, Bonifacio.” Sagot niyang hindi nakakaramdam.

Dinuraan siya ni Andres ng dugo, at sumama ang tingin ni Aguinaldo sa kaniya.

“Magdudusa kayo.” Tuloy ni Andres, “Magdudusa kayo sa kamay ng mga hunter—pati ‘yang Hari niyo! Mamamatay kayong lahat!”

“Lahat halos, ‘yan ang sinasabi.” Sagot ni Aguinaldo. “Magandang gabi, ginoo.”

May isang putok ng baril, at wala nang ibang maalala si EJ sa panahong iyon.

* * *

 

Nagising si EJ, mag-isa sa isang magarang bahay, gulong-gulo at walang nalalaman sa kaniyang kinalalagyan. Ang huli niyang alaala ay namatay siya, sa piling ng kaniyang ama—

Doon, bumalik ang sakit sa kaniyang puso, pinuno ang kaniyang mga mata, at tumapon ang kaniyang mga luha. Humagulgol siya, puno ng pighati ang kaniyang mga sigaw habang umiiyak, hanggang sa mapagod siya, at maubos ang kaniyang mga luha.

Nanahimik siya, at humiga ulit sa kama, nang bigla niyang mapansin ang isang nakataling kuwintas na anting-anting sa kaniyang leeg. Naupo siya ulit, at tinignan ito nang nagtataka, pinaiikot-ikot ito sa kamay niya, at sa pagkalalim ng kaniyang pag-iisip dito ay halos hindi niya napansin ang pumasok sa kuwarto hanggang magsalita ito.

“Bonifacio.”

Nanigas ang dugo ni EJ sa pagkabahala, at lumingon siya upang makita si Aguinaldo, nakaupo sa tabi ng kama niya.

“ _Ikaw_ —”

“Oo, ang pumatay sa tatay mo.” Sagot niyang malumanay. “Tahan na, bata. Wala nang oras sa pag-iiyak.”

Halos makatalon si EJ mula sa kama upang sakalin ito, nang biglang kumirot ang kaniyang dibdib. Napatigil ang binata, at nahiga ulit, nagulat sa biglang paglitaw ng dugo sa kaniyang suot na damit.

“Hinay-hinay lang, bata.” Wika ni Aguinaldo, at unti-unti niyang binaba si EJ sa kama upang akyatin ang kaniyang suot na sando. Nabigla si EJ sa nakita niyang kalaki-laking sugat sa kaniyang dibdib.

Yung sugat na pumatay sa kaniya.

“Bakit—”

“Bakit ka buhay, anak?”

“ _Huwag_ mo akong tawagan iyan.”

Tinignan siya ni Aguinaldo nang kalmado, at tumango nang mabagal.

“Kung iyon ang ninanais mo.” Sang-ayon niya. “Ngayon. Bata. Bakit ka buhay, siguro pinagtataka mo.”

“Hindi. Mas pinagtataka ko kung bakit ka pa buhay.”

“Hm. Charming.”

Sumimangot lalo si EJ, ngunit nagpatuloy na lamang si Aguinaldo.

“May dalawa kang kaluluwa sa katawan mo, hijo. Isa, pantao,” tinuro niya ang anting-anting sa leeg ni EJ, “At ang isa, pang-diwata.” Tinuro niya ang dibdib ni EJ. “Iisa lang na kaluluwa ang napatay ko sa iyo. Masyadong makapangyarihan ang dugo ng ina mo.”

“... Ibig mong sabihin, na...” Napatigil si EJ. “Hindi na ako tao? Ganun?”

“Oo.” Tango ni Aguinaldo. “Pinatay ko ang pagkatao mo. Isa ka nang ganap na diwata. Nagmumukha ka lang na tao, ngunit wala tayong magagawa riyan.”

Sinampal siya bigla si Aguinaldo.

“Buong buhay kong ginusto na maging normal,” Wika niyang nanginginig ang boses sa galit. “ _Buong buhay_.”

“At ngayo’y ipinagkait ko sa iyo, oo.” Sagot ni Aguinaldo. “Kailangan iyon, hijo.”

“Anong kailangan doon? Iyon na nga lang maiiwan sa akin ng Daddy ko—”

“Upang maging isa kang ganap na mangkukulam.”

Napatigil ulit s EJ.

“... Ano?”

“Kinakailangan ng isang mangkukulam ng isang kaluluwa sa kaniyang anting-anting na magbibigay sa kaniya ng kaniyang mga kapangyarihan.” Tinignan ni Aguinaldo ang kaniyang anting-anting na nakasabit sa gintong tanikala sa kaniyang leeg. “Ito’y buhay at kapangyarihan ng isang mangkukulam. Kapag wala o nasira ang anting-anting na ito, wala rin ang mangkukulam na iyon.”

“T-teka,”

“Ang dahilan ng pangangailangan ng pagpatay sa pagkatao mo ay dahil kailangang lagyan ng kaluluwa ang anting-anting mo.” Tuloy ni Aguinaldo. “Nais kong makita kung gaanong kalakas nga ba talaga ang isang mangkukulam na sariling kaluluwa ang gamit sa anting-anting niya. Di hamak na mas malakas, lalo na’t nagkakaintindihan ang dalawang kaluluwang galing sa iisa.”

Nanlamig ang dugo ni EJ. “... Ako’y... isang...”

“Oo, eksperimento lamang.” Tango ni Aguinaldo. “Matagal nang ninais ng Haring Mangkukulam na malaman ang ganitong klaseng pangyayari, at kung sakaling maging matagumpay, maaaring gawin kang tagapagmana niya.”

“Tagapag...”

“Sa totoo, hindi ka tagapagmana. Ika’y sisidlan lamang para sa kaniya.”

 _O diyos ko_.

“Ginawa... mo ang lahat ng iyon... para lang... sa eksperimento?”

“Hindi maiiwasan talaga ang may masagasaan.” Sagot ni Aguinaldong madalian. “At, sa katunayan, matagal na nga akong naghahanap ng aralang tatanggapin ko at gagawing estudyante ko.”

Nasira ang pagkatulala ni EJ sa pagbanggit ng aralan.

“Gagawin mo akong...”

“Oo. Studyante ko. Sa arte ng mahika at pagkukulam.”

Parang gumuho ang mundo ni EJ.

Nagkaroon siya ng bagong buhay bilang isang mangkukulam. Bilang isang nilalang na pumatay sa sarili niyang ama.

Hindi siya makatiis.

Niyakap niya ang kaniyang sarili, at sinara niya ang mga mata niya, at inalala niya ang gawain niya noong bata siya. Ang magpapawi ng mga masasamang espiritung lumalapit sa kaniya, at—

May sumabog. Nagulat si EJ, at binuksan niya ang mata niya upang makita na sumabog ang kuwartong kinalalagyan nila ni Aguinaldo.

 _Tumakas ka_ , wika ng sariling boses niya sa utak niya, at hindi pa siya kailangang sabihan muli pa. Tumayo siya, hindi na alintana ang sakit ng sugat niya sa dibdib niya, at tumakbo palayo, katulad ng ginawa niya noong tumakas siya sa hawak ng nanay niya.

Naiwanang mag-isa sa wasak na kuwarto, napangiti si Aguinaldo.

“Aba’y totoo nga.” Wika niya ng mahina. “Malakas nga ang mga katulad ng anak ni Bonifacio.”

* * *

 

Tumakbo siya ng tumakbo, hanggang sa makarating sa gubat ng kaniyang ina. Mukhang iilang araw na rin ang dumaan mula ng mawala siya, at nang balikan niya ang lugar kung saan namatay ang ama niya, may nakita siyang bato sa ibabaw ng ginalaw na lupa.

_Andres at EJ Bonifacio._

_Minamahal, at hindi malilimutan._

_Mahal na mahal ko kayo._

Napaluha si EJ, at lumuhod siya sa tabi ng bato.

“Mommy,” wika niyang mahina. “ _Mommy_ , gusto kitang makita ulit.”

Hindi na niya matiis ang sakit ng kaniyang dibdib, at nahimatay siya sa tabi ng bato.

* * *

 

Nagising si EJ, mag-isa sa isang magarang bahay, at muling bumalik ang dagok at takot sa kaniyang puso. Sumipa siya, pasigaw-sigaw sa takot, nang biglang may humawak sa kaniya, at bumalik siya sa katinuan.

“... EJ?”

Kay sarap marinig muli ang tinig ng nanay niya.

“Mommy,” napaluha siya, at niyakap niya ng mahigpit ang ina niya. “ _Mommy_.”

“Shh, anak, andito na ako,” wika ni Gregoriang mahina, hinahalikan ang buhok ng binata habang umiiyak siya sa balikat niya. “Andito ako, huwag ka nang matakot.”

Nahanap siya ni Gregoria sa tabi ng bato, at agarang binalik ito sa tahanan nila upang magpagaling. Nang marinig niya ang buong kuwento sa anak niya, nanahimik si Gregoria, at nagbuntung-hininga.

“Paano na ‘yan, anak?” tanong niya, “Anong gagawin natin?”

Nanahimik ng sandali si EJ, at biglang tumalas ang tingin niya sa nanay niya.

“Ipaghiganti natin si Daddy.” Sagot niya, at nabigla si Gregoria.

“EJ...”

“Sinumpa sila ni Daddy na magdudusa sa kamay ng mga hunter.” Binilog ni EJ ang kamao niya, at nagbuntung-hininga. “Ipagkatotoo natin.”

Tinignan siya ni Gregoria, malaki ang mata, at nanlambot si EJ.

“Sasama ka ba sa akin, Mommy?”

May lumipas na sandali, ngunit alam ni Gregoria ang dapat niyang gagawin.

“Oo, anak.” Sagot niya, “Hanapin natin ‘yang Aguinaldo na ‘yan, at ipagbayad natin siya.”


End file.
